4152 Witchwood Lane

by Katie Winters

  “Sure. But I’ve also spent some time in the woods,” Graham told her. “I like it out there. It offers so much peace and quiet. It’s the perfect time to think.”

  The conversation continued. Mila forced herself to breathe in, out, in, out and slowly eased herself deeper into the conversation. Graham kept good eye contact; he was funny and charming and asked polite and interesting questions. Mila already imagined herself describing the date to her best friends later. “He seemed out of this world — the kind of guy that reminds me there are still good things to be had if you just force yourself to be brave enough to take a chance.”

  As the wine bottle emptied, Graham leaned back in his chair. The sun dipped low along the western horizon, and the water that swept up along their shore was tinged pink and orange. There was a soft nostalgia to this time of night.

  “I have to admit. I don’t want the night to end just yet,” he said suddenly.

  Mila was surprised to find that she felt the same way. This went against every rule she’d set aside for herself.

  “What do you say? Do you want to grab something to eat? I’m staying over in Oak Bluffs,” he said. “And I saw a few fantastic-looking restaurants.”

  Mila glanced around as she stewed in her thoughts. Nearly every table surrounding them held a couple with age ranges between their twenties and their seventies. Not many of them looked terribly happy; in fact, none of them seemed to reflect the joy that Mila felt there between herself and Graham.

  What the heck, she thought now. Carpe diem, right?

  “Let’s do it. I’m starving.”

  “I like a woman who admits she’s hungry,” Graham said. He removed his wallet from his back pocket and gestured for the server to approach. “And don’t even think about offering to pay half,” he said, as Mila reached for her own purse. “I’m taking you out on a proper date, the old-fashioned way.”

  Mila felt like she was floating. After Graham paid, he rose up and then brought out his hand for her to hold. She slipped her fingers through his and walked slowly through the sand, back toward the parking lot on the other side of the line of trees. As they walked, she told him about The Hesson House; you could just make out the outline of the huge mansion-turned-hotel.

  “The opening party is this weekend. I’m really nervous for Olivia,” Mila said. “She’s never worked in hospitality before. I don’t know if she knows fully what she’s getting into.”

  “And what’s her normal job?”

  “Teaching,” Mila said.

  Graham chuckled, but not unkindly. “Well, maybe there’s something to be said about managing a room of teenagers. Maybe it translates over to hospitality. Who knows.”

  “She seems happy to have a new project. I think she needed that,” Mila continued.

  “We all need new things to get us through, don’t we?” Graham returned.

  “Even if they fail,” Mila affirmed with a smile. She wondered if, in actuality, they were talking about the concept of love, of romance — of the messiness of dating. There was always this element of flirtation that everything was up in the air and you never knew precisely what it was you spoke about. Everything was a game.

  Graham led them toward a Jaguar convertible. He explained it was from the late ‘50s. “She’s one of my favorite things,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’d be without her.”

  Mila smiled. She had never fully understood men’s fascination with cars. Peter had had it, too.

  That said, she had to admit, as she sat up front in that Jaguar, she felt like a prize. He slipped into the front seat and gave her a half-smile. She could sense it in his eyes that he was pleased she was there. He was pleased to share this with her. And perhaps most of all, he thought she was beautiful and good enough to be seen with him, out in public, on this gorgeous evening in mid-July. Maybe she wasn’t one of those Sicilian women from the previous year, but they existed only in the here-and-now. She was enough.

  “All right. Let’s get out of here,” he said as he revved the engine.

  Mila leaned her head back as the breeze swept over them. Her eyes glazed over as the soft beats of a ‘70s song swelled from the stereo. His large hand adjusted the gears as they rushed along the road. A small part of Mila’s heart pretended that this man was her man; that they had a life together; that she frequently sat up front in this very car and asked him normal, everyday things like, “Do you think we can stop at the store? We’re low on milk.” She’d had a partner for years and years and gosh, she craved that kind of partnership now.

  But it was silly to work herself up like this. It was silly to pretend. It put too much expectation on poor Graham — a handsome guy who just wanted some wine and a good meal and some pleasant conversation. Mila told herself to calm down. She told herself to live in the moment. That’s what date-able women did, right? They didn’t put too much pressure on anything. They —

  Everything always happened at once. Graham paused at the stop light as they streamlined toward Oak Bluffs and right as he eased forward, a large truck barreled right toward them and smashed into the back-end of the poor ‘50s Jaguar. Mila screamed so loud that her throat felt busted. She gripped her knees as the car was cast forward. In a moment, the Jaguar had stopped its roll and remained in the center of the intersection, as Graham fully comprehended what had just happened.

  “WHAT THE HELL!” he cried. Angry was too little a word for what he was. His cheeks were tomato-red; his eyes glittered with malice. He turned his head around to glare at the man in the truck. If stares could have killed, the driver would have been dead in a heartbeat.

  “It’s okay! We’re okay!” Mila cried. She reached for Graham’s hand, but he shoved hers away unkindly.

  “Didn’t he see me?”

  “Let’s just pull over alongside the curb. Let’s just —”

  “I don’t want to pull over. I want to go to dinner. I—”

  Graham acted like a child. Mila was reminded of Zane at age eight when he hadn’t wanted to go to bed on time. Were all men big babies?

  The man in the truck stepped out onto the pavement and waved toward them. He didn’t look pleased, either. This wasn’t exactly how any of them had wanted to spend the evening.

  “Come on, Graham. The sooner we pull over, the better.”

  Graham’s nostrils flared out so wide that he looked almost demonic. He yanked the car over violently as he grumbled to himself. Mila rolled her eyes again as her attraction for this man depleted by the second. Once they’d pulled over, Graham leaped out of the Jaguar and hustled around to see the extent of the damage. Mila came out to look, as well. To her, the single dent along the back-end wasn’t bad at all — something you could easily buff out. But Graham wouldn’t hear of it.

  “What the heck, man?” Graham demanded of the driver. “You could have killed us! Is this your first day driving, or—?”

  The truck driver waved a hand as his brow furrowed deeper. “No need to be offensive, sir. Let’s just call the cops. Exchange information. Let’s—”

  “No. I want you to tell me first what the heck you were thinking,” Graham blared.

  The truck driver glanced Mila’s way. You could see it in his eyes: that he was thinking, how could this woman be with this hot-headed idiot? Mila had half a mind to stick out her thumb and hitchhike back to Edgartown. The night had taken a wrong turn very quickly.

  “What the hell, man?” Graham demanded again.

  Graham yanked around. He was red-faced and anxious. Sweat billowed up on the back of his neck. Mila gave a half-shrug and said, “Let’s just play along? The sooner we get out of this, the sooner we can eat.”

  She said it, even though she had about zero intention of ever seeing this guy again. Her instincts had clearly been wrong. Fantastic.

  The truck driver got on his phone to dial 911. At that moment, Graham bucked for the front seat of the Jaguar. He cranked the engine and fled the scene of the accident. Mila watched, bug-eyed, as he ducked down
the road that led away from Oak Bluffs. She spread her hands out on either side of her and cried, “GRAHAM!”

  But he had left her, there at the side of the road, next to the truck and its driver, who wore a white tank-top and a large baseball hat with a fish on it. He’d left her. And when she checked her purse, she realized that, on top of everything else, he’d even driven away with her phone. It remained on the front seat. She would probably never see it again.

  Chapter Six

  The truck driver stepped alongside Mila and watched as the Jag cut off into the distance. He placed his hands in his pocket, flabbergasted. Mila turned to face him. She felt somehow responsible for all of it. She stuttered into some kind of explanation. “I don’t know what to say. I just met him. I—”

  The guy in the baseball hat looked at her like she had three heads. It seemed even more embarrassing to admit that she’d just been on a first date from a dating app. She was forty-one years old. She glanced down at her outfit and felt suddenly even more embarrassed. Maybe the center-part was too youthful; maybe the dress made her look too silly. As cars raced past, she felt increasingly on display. But only a few minutes passed before the police sirens blared through the air.

  “Finally,” the truck driver grumbled.

  The officer who stepped out of the police vehicle was familiar. Mila’s heart sank. It was the same man who had been at her house the other night — the one who already semi-detested her; it seemed like. He took a few long strides and then stopped short as he analyzed the damage on the truck. “Where’s the other vehicle?”

  The guy in the baseball hat made an exasperated sound. “I don’t even know what to say. The dude just got back in his Jag and sped off.”

  The cop’s jaw dropped. He turned his eyes toward Mila as her cheeks burned. “Are the two of you together?”

  The guy in the baseball hat stepped as far away from Mila as possible. “No way. She was with him.”

  The cop glared at her. Mila felt horribly embarrassed. She wanted to call one of her best friends for backup, but her phone remained in that stupid Jag. She felt about fifteen years old. Isabelle would have rolled her eyes into the back of her head at the sight.

  “This is a mess of a day then, isn’t it?” the cop said. “You mind telling me what happened here?”

  Mila opened her lips, then closed them again. She felt totally at a loss. “He came out of nowhere—” she finally said.

  “Oh. Sure. Blame me, and not the guy who sped away from the scene of the accident,” the other guy spat.

  Mila exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  “Who was this guy, anyway?” the cop demanded.

  “He’s just a guy I met on—erm—” Was she really going to tell this cop that she’d been on a date with a guy from the internet?

  The cop continued to glare at her. Mila’s throat began to close up. “He was my date— just a guy I met tonight. I don’t really know anything about him. His name is Graham. I don’t even know his last name.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest as she rolled through feelings of embarrassment and confusion. The guy with the baseball hat leafed out his phone from his back pocket and drew the screen toward them. “I took a picture of the license plate as soon as it happened. Maybe you can look it up.”

  “Glad to know someone was on top of things,” the cop grumbled as he took the phone. He returned to his cop car and sat in the front seat.

  Mila and the truck driver continued to stand at the side of the road. Mila wanted to high-tail it out of there, too. She spent a minute or two scanning over the previous hour and a half of conversations she’d had with Graham. Had he given any indication that he was such a slime ball? It was so difficult to ever get to know anyone. How would she ever find anyone to love? Ugh. Now, she was spiraling.

  “That guy must have really cared about you,” the truck driver said with a sniff.

  Mila glared at him. As she drummed up something to say, the police officer returned. All the color had drained from his cheeks. “I ran the plates on that car,” he said. “And it was listed as stolen out of Boston yesterday afternoon.”

  Mila’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. “Are you serious? That’s impossible.”

  The cop shrugged. “It’s possible, in fact. The system doesn’t lie.”

  Mila’s heart fluttered. It was one thing to go on a date with a sleaze bag. It was another thing to go on a date with a guy who’d stolen a car and then tried to take you out to dinner in it. It was almost laughable. This was the pinnacle of bad luck.

  “Wow. You really know how to pick ‘em,” the truck driver said gruffly.

  Mila rolled her eyes in the style of Isabelle. “It was just a first date. And I don’t need your two cents, thank you.”

  The cop nodded. “Can you give me a bit more information about him? Any idea of where he was staying?”

  Mila shook her head. “He said somewhere in Oak Bluffs, but I don’t know where. We were headed to dinner.”

  “I see.” The cop’s eyes were a dark green color; she hadn’t noticed this the other night. They looked at her without an ounce of trust. His dark hair cascaded around his ears. He was mid-forties, but he hardly had a fleck of grey across his head.

  “Oh! He did drive away with my phone in the front seat,” Mila said. “Maybe we can track him down with the Find My Phone app?”

  The cop nodded and his eyes flashed at her sudden suggestion. He grabbed his own phone and brought up the site, which would allow Mila to conduct the search. By the time she found the little dot on the map, all the light had dimmed across the horizon. The three of them stood in the grey darkness. The truck driver seemed resolute that he wouldn’t leave until he got some answers. Mila wanted to point out that the accident had been his fault, not Graham’s. But of course, that didn’t matter so much right then anymore.

  “All right. Let’s go get him,” the cop said. He then turned toward the truck driver and said, “Why don’t you come down to the station tomorrow to file a report? The truck looks drivable to me. And we’ll have more information for you then.”

  The truck driver looked annoyed. He arched an eyebrow, then glared at Mila. “Good luck,” he said snidely as he turned back and got into the driver’s seat. In a moment, his tires squealed as he lurched away.

  “Come on,” the cop said to Mila. “The Find Your Phone dot hasn’t moved yet, but I don’t want to tempt fate.”

  Mila followed after him as he spoke into his walkie-talkie. He stepped to the passenger side and opened the front door and gestured for her to sit. She did. She had never been inside of a cop car before, and it chilled her to the bone. There were all sorts of strange gadgets and beeping lights that stretched out before her. The cop tore into the driver’s side and again looked at his phone. “Still no move. Maybe he’s hiding somewhere. Or maybe that’s where he’s staying.”

  There was an ID on the dashboard. The ID had a photo of the cop beside her along with his name — Liam Caldwell. Mila had to admit that it was a really cool name. It almost sounded like someone from an action movie. The ID photo was from a few years ago, but the man beside her still exuded the same amount of confidence. She wondered if he’d grown up on the island. She had never heard of him before, which probably meant no.

  Liam turned onto the country road and sped for the little dot on the map. Mila half-expected him to turn on the sirens, but he didn’t.

  “I don’t want him to know we’re coming,” Liam explained, as though he could read her mind.

  “I see.”

  Liam glanced her way for a moment, then said, “You’re that mom from the other night. Right?”

  She was surprised that he had only just brought that up now. “That’s me. Yep.”

  “Always at the center of the action, I guess,” he said.

  “Lucky me.”

  Liam gave her the slightest of smiles. “What will you do next? Rob a bank?”

  “I’m actually plan
ning on stealing a plane from the airport,” Mila explained.

  “Oh! Not a bad idea. I won’t be able to catch you in the sky.”

  “Exactly my point,” Mila said. In spite of the horror of the previous thirty minutes, she flashed a big grin. She felt suddenly aware that Liam thought she was attractive. She could just sense it from the way he looked at her. Of course, it didn’t matter at all; they had a job to do. And she still thought he was kind of an arrogant, brash, overly-confident cop. She wasn’t exactly into that.

  Still, she decided to change her tune on her current outfit. She was glad Isabelle had picked it.

  “I don’t understand. That’s the dot....” Mila said as they drove toward it. “But I don’t see any car.”

  “Hmm.” The cop pulled over on the side of the road, near a heavy tree line. He stepped out and looked down at his phone for a long time. He then sauntered toward the line of trees. Mila joined him, and they stepped through the thick foliage, the dead leaves from the previous fall, and the dense green — some of which was poison ivy.

  “Watch out,” Mila said, pointing out the dark green leaves near the cop’s left ankle.

  “There!” The cop thrust his hand through the dark, dead leaves and drew out Mila’s phone. “He must have thrown it out as he sped by.”

  Mila heaved a sigh. She grabbed the phone, surprised that it hadn’t cracked. The bed of leaves must have saved it.

  “Shoot. I guess we can drive through Oak Bluffs. See if we see any sign of it?” Mila tried.

  The cop shook his head, frustrated. “I’ll take it from here. No need for you to run around the island on some kind of wild goose chase. Besides, I imagine your children have taken every opportunity to raise a ruckus back at your house.”

  “They promised they wouldn’t,” Mila said with a sneaky smile.

  “And I guess you’re in the habit of trusting teenagers?”

  “It’s the only thing you can do,” Mila offered. “Give them the trust you hope they have for you.”

  Liam chuckled. “I wouldn’t know, I guess. I don’t have kids of my own. I just deal with all the rascals on this island. And they know how to get into trouble. That’s for sure.”